Fine Tooned
By David Weitz
In my process of seeking good stories to journal about, I discovered the Recovering Cartoonist online by sheer coincidence. I immediately went to his website to look for more, since speaking for myself, one is never enough. I couldn’t get him on the phone quickly enough to solicit a handful of his collection of thousands. So willing to cater to my personal request, he not only submitted the few I had already grown attached to, but he also sketched a couple just for me!
I already assumed from his clever work that Ben Canha had been recovering for quite some time. Then, after poking around his personal life, he revealed to me that he had been clean and sober for over twenty-three years. Before this article was published he sent me three of his books and I was awed by his amazing ability to capture the comical situations that being in recovery brings to a community of those who can identify with the lifestyle.
After his personal contribution, I couldn’t think of a better story to cover than ‘Ben Ben The Fisherman’ who lit up my creative side to want to capture more about his journey in recovery. His personal tale, in addition to his long-term love affair with his pencil, includes a life story he chooses not to erase so that he never forgets where he came from.
When Ben Canha is not doodling, he teaches nursing at the University of Maryland. Before becoming a teacher, he was employed in a government position in the field of nursing with an associate’s degree. Twenty-four years ago that all almost came to an end.
“What was life like for you, Ben, thirty-four years ago?” I asked.
“I was not going to work. I was not making my mortgage payments. I was even debating whether or not to make car payments; just living in that fear of impending doom,” Canha replied.
“So how did you eventually find your way into recovery?” I asked.
“By the grace of God, and it was no merit of my own, my boss at the time through an intervention told me that I was going to lose my job. She told me she was going to report me to the Maryland State Board of Nursing if I did not go into treatment. It was then I did go inpatient, kicking and screaming might, I add,” Canha explained.
“I know it’s been a long time, but do you still know her?” I asked.
“I do know her. She actually supported me in my recovery after I got clean and sober. I credit her for being my mentor and such a role model. She came to my anniversaries for a number of years and my wedding. She encouraged me to go back to school too. I eventually got my bachelor’s degree and then my master’s degree, and that led to promotions and a career change. This past year after thirty-one years of government service I am actually retired from that job and am able to draw a full pension.”
“And now you’re teaching?” I asked.
“Yes, I am now teaching nursing at the University of Maryland,” Canha said.
As hard and uncomfortable as it may seem at first getting sober, it’s astonishing to realize what occurs once an addict completely surrenders his will. Working with a sponsor and learning to trust in a higher power of your own understanding can bring new meaning to the definition of life.
With that in mind, although Ben Canha was working in the field of nursing long before he ever considered getting sober, what he had not discovered until sobriety was his natural ability to sketch cartoons, which would eventually reveal a side of him that he never knew existed.
“When did you discover your ability to draw, Ben?” I asked.
“Somebody introduced me to a book called The Artist Way. I read it and it said something like true creativity is such a rewarding and expanding experience of who we are,” Canha said.
“So when did you draw your first recovery cartoon?” I asked.
“Soon after reading that book I drew my first recovery carton, and it sat on a friend of mine’s refrigerator for over a year. A year later someone announced at a meeting that they were looking for submissions for a recovery newsletter. So, I got the cartoon off my friend’s fridge and made a copy, submitted, it and they published it.”
“And when, after that first published cartoon, did you really start getting into it?” I asked.
“I realized that at every meeting there was always a one-liner where people laughed. So I said to myself all you have to do is write it down and then get the essence of what was really funny about it and then draw it in a cartoon. That was in the year 2000. And I swear for the next eighteen months I just drew, drew, and drew cartoons like a madman! I drew about one or two a day. Then I realized I had enough to publish a book and then the thought came to me that I could organize them according to the step and traditions,” Canha said
“What would you tell someone who is getting sober or just getting sober that has the desire to find their creative side?” I asked.
“I feel it opens up so much self-worth, and it’s so fulfilling to find creative expression. Whatever creative expression you have you need to find out what is true for you. I can only speak for myself when I tell you that I feel so connected to my higher power. It feels like, ‘yeah, thank God’ and also, ‘way to go Ben!’” Canha replied.
When he’s not recording every Boston Red Sox game, jamming out to Frank Zappa, or going for a long therapeutic run, you may just find Ben Canha on the ocean’s deep-sea fishing for something much bigger than goldfish. If he’s not at a meeting before the crack of dawn giving back what was so freely given to him, he’s most likely teaching nursing at the University of Maryland. He’s not only a dedicated father to his sixteen-year-old twins, Kevin and Karen, but he’s also a loyal, loving husband to his wife, Beth, of twenty-one years who shares his spiritual principles. Ben Canha is not only an unbelievable example that you can discover your creative side through opening your heart and keeping an open mind; he is also a living testament that recovery works if you work it!
